


Punishment

by notsoappropro



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A little bit of blood, Aftercare, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, M/M, Safeword Use, Spanking, Tears, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:06:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7602763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsoappropro/pseuds/notsoappropro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Selfishly, Bull tucks a loose wisp from Lavellan’s mess of braided hair behind a pointed ear, his large thumb tracing a line of green across the man’s cheekbone. Tired eyes look up again; glaring until Bull let the same hand grip so painfully around a knot of locks that what came before might as well have been an accident, and they fluttered shut.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Lavellan wants punishment. Bull obliges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punishment

“You’re sure about this, boss?”  
“I am.”  
And he meets Bull’s eyes for a second - for the first time since he’d hidden himself away in his chambers and for the first time since he’d allowed Bull inside the room: curtain’s drawn, papers everywhere - to let Bull know this needs to happen. When his tired, sparkling eyes looked away again he let his head hand and his arms unfold and drop to his sides.

Selfishly, Bull tucks a loose wisp from Lavellan’s mess of braided hair behind a pointed ear, his large thumb tracing a line of green across the man’s cheekbone. Tired eyes look up again; glaring until Bull let the same hand grip so painfully around a knot of locks that what came before might as well have been an accident, and they fluttered shut.

“Turn around.”  
Bull doesn’t have to instruct him into position. Lavellan readies himself automatically: long hands finding purchase on the headboard between collections of wraps and ribbons left behind from better days, shifting his legs through the unmade sheets until his knees were braced and stable.

He wraps a scarf that’s closer to sandpaper than silk around both of Lavellan’s thin wrists. Its tight, and Lavellan drops his hands from the bar to make it tighter.

From the foot of the bed, Bull watches - Lavellan is trembling from his fists to his feet already.

On better days Bull would warm him up, touches and games just on the edge of playful. Hard-earned puffs of air passing through the grin on Lavellan’s soft lifts were as close to a giggle as one could ever get from the Elven man. Moans completely unexaggerated as Bull ran his hand down a wirey thigh before slapping, not hard, unleashing the arching, aroused, and out of control elf the Inquisitor needed to become.

But today is different. Bull hooks a thumb over Lavellan’s belt, roughly yanking it down and exposing what needed to be in one swift motion. The Inquisitor jerks away as the leather scraped his skin before remembering himself.

Its only then that Bull slips the strip from its loops, folding it over in one hand.

Bull readies it against the Inquisitor’s backside as a crease in the silk pillowcase lets him know Lavellan had bitten down. He reaches up to grab the Elven man’s shoulder, lifting him just enough to keep him safe, but tight enough to create the bruises Lavellan had asked for.

Bull brings the belt down.

The reaction is instantaneous, and harder than anything they’d done together before. Lavellan jerks foreward and Bull moves with him. There’s a gasp, but its closer to surprise than pain.

Bull snaps the belt again before the elven man can recover, this time met with stillness and a sharp inhale through the nose. Spurred by Lavellan’s composure, Bull hit just a bit harder and just a bit faster. The snap of a belt and a small grunt from low in The Inquistor’s throat switch off until there’s a rhythm.

“Bull!”

“Yeah?” He pauses, but its not the word and his grip on Lavellan never loosens. “Had enough?”

“Not enough,” he chokes through gasps. Lavellan turns to look at bull as best he can, tied up and kneeling as he is. He’s sweating and red to the tips of his ears, last twists in his undone braids giving up and letting his hair hang loose. “Harder. Like... Like its not even me. Like you don’t even care,” he hesitates. “Hold me down. Don’t stop. Make it hurt. I need this. Please.”

“You know how to get me to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” he begged, flattening out and arching into the sheets, though his expression looked more hardened than aroused. “Don’t stop.”

Expression aside, Lavellans breathlessness and body brought a growl out of Bull’s chest, shoving him down and hiking up his tunic to grip his torso underneath. Several buttons pop and Bull digs his fingers into the Inquistor’s reddened backside. Lavellan pressed his face into the sheets.

“Harder, Please.”  
Bull was taking small steps with this - for once not sure what Lavellan wanted and not sure if Lavellan needed what he wanted - but he didn’t want leave him begging and unsatisfied.

“Please.”  
Bull let the belt roll onto the floor and reached into the bedside drawer. Inside was a handle, several leather braids with knots sprouting from its end. He readied it - the hand not around the whip held down Lavellan’s torso.

The crack of leather on skin is audible. Bull feels the Inquisitor’s back muscles jump under his hand as his body tries to retreat into the mattress. The bed frame sways as he jerks his wrists in the rough scarf. The begging cuts abruptly as Lavellan shakes, body tense, before all his limbs drops at once.

He doesn’t say The Word, and bull does it again. It’s met with a similar reaction, but the edge of a swallowed scream rings in the room. Then real screams when Bull hits him a third, fourth and fifth time. When the scream lasts longer than the pain should, Bull pauses. Lavellan sobs once, but says nothing.

The elven man takes 3 more hits before his legs try to scramble away, breath hard and voice raw. Bull keeps a hand on his back till he settles - he still says nothing.

Its a couple more hits before the sobs turn into a constant stream, muffled as Lavellan kept his face buried in the pillow, lifting up only to gasp when Bull whipped him again. Bull doesn’t pause again- he keeps the whip coming down at an even pace.

“All you have to do is say the word, Boss.” Bull reminds him, because in a few more strikes there might be blood. In response Lavellan grips a fist around the headboard and the noises die down for the next couple strikes.

“I’m sorry. Don’t stop. I’m sorry,” he repeats, almost like begging. But it isn’t the word so bull keeps going.

There’s blood. The sobbing is back but the screaming seems gone for good, replaced with wordless rasping as Lavellan jerked around in Bull’s grip.

Bull was wrong - The scream comes back for a particularly hard hit, Lavellan’s normally lilting voice cracking with its volume, broken like a man tortured and stopping only for hyperventilating breaths. The breath’s don’t slow when Bull hits again. They don’t slow when he drops the whip either.

When bull turns him over, he doesn’t react to the terrible pain that should be his back against the sheets. His crossed wrists are rubbed raw. His is face wet with tears and spit and his eyes are wide open and unfocused.

“Don’t st... I’m sor...,” Lavellan chokes, his breath coming in hiccups. His head rocked from side to side, on the edge of fainting.

“Katoh,” Bull calls because he has to. “Katoh. Breath with me. I’m here. Katoh. In. Out. There we go.”

It takes a long moment to get Lavellan breathing again, though the tears didn’t stop. Bull rips the scarf away from the headboard, careful of Lavellan’s raw wrists. Bull helps him curl up before wrapping him in every quilt the bed had to offer and leaning him against his chest.

“Katoh,” the Inquistor finally coughs.

“Well, no shit,” and that gets something close to a laugh out of him in the first time in... Bull didn’t know how long.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, its my bad,” Bull corrects, rubbing circles into the Inquisitor’s back. “ I should have read you better. That’s what I’m supposed to be good at, you know.”

“They’re all dead because of me.”

Bull remembered. His clan. There was an emergency or something of the like up north and the Boss made a bad call. The Inquisitor opened his door up to him for the first time in weeks for Bull an hour ago. Disheveled and a mess and requesting punishment before Bull could even say ‘hi’.

“Getting me to hurt you won’t make them any less dead.” The Inquisitor flinched with guilt. Bull snuck his thumb under Lavellan’s chin. His lip was bleeding just a bit from where he’d bitten it and the tears still snuck out of his sleepless eyes against Lavellan’s best efforts. “You do your best. And your best is pretty damn good. But even when you do your best people die. You want to do right by them? Give a bad guy an extra knife in the gut for their sakes, what do you say?”

“I say it sounds like a plan,” the words come slow, raspy and careful with a shuddering breath as he worked with bull to calm down. Bull wipes away the extra tears before Lavellan can do it himself.

“Good. Now why don’t you catch a nap? You look like you could sleep for a year.”

Before Bull can lay back all the way, Lavellan presses a hard, long kiss to Bulls lips before passing out on his chest.

There’s still a bit of first aid to do, but Bull figured he could enjoy the warmth at his side for a minute or two.

 

**Author's Note:**

> kink meme fill http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15543.html?thread=61553335:  
> "For some reasons Lavellan feels really, really bad about a decision he made so he asks Iron Bull for a physical punishment (since most of the inquisition seems to be pleased with the decision and its results).  
> He wants Bull to beat/whip him and only to stop when he uses the save word. Afterwards Bull offers gentle comfort and treatment for the worst bruises. How bad it goes is up to you or if Bull is the one using the save word to cut the punishment."  
> Unbeta-ed but I finally made an account to put my fills up on so. Thank you for reading.


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